Let Me Go - Impromptu Challenge - June 11th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

This is for the impromptu challenge based on the song 'Feelin' Alright' by Joe Cocker. When I say 'based', I'm talking very, very loosely.

Thank you carabele for the title.

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The screams had been almost constant for two days, only stopping when tranquilising medication was administered. That was when the whimpering would start which, to everyone concerned, was somehow worse than the screaming. To Napoleon Solo, it was very nearly too much for him to endure. He’d had to force himself to stay in the room as his partner and friend battled whatever insidious drug THRUSH had given him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be there for Illya, but the sight of him straining against the restraints, and begging for help in every language he knew, was difficult to bear. It was made all the worse knowing that there was nothing he could do to console the tormented Russian. By the third day, there seemed to be a small light at the end of the tunnel. Illya was still fighting against the dreams which were assaulting him, but his physical struggles had abated somewhat, and he was using only the two languages; Russian and English.

Napoleon was fitfully dozing in the chair, when a soft, tired voice called his name. He opened his eyes and looked into haunted blue ones.

“Hey, Tovarisch. How are you feeling?”

“Let me go, pozhalsta (please).”

The American’s heart felt as though it had been ripped from his chest. Illya was a man who rarely showed his emotions, so to hear him sounding so vulnerable and afraid was heart-breaking.

“I can’t do that, moy droog (my friend), not until you’re well again.”

“Please, Napoleon,” Illya pleaded forlornly. “I can’t beat this, the dreams are too strange, and there’s too much to do before I die.”

Reaching over, Solo took hold of the Russian’s hand and looked him in the eyes. Illya seemed to be focusing on him, but behind the gaze, Napoleon could almost see the fog of confusion.

“How about this, you try and sleep a bit longer, and I’ll release you when you wake up.”

The shame he felt at lying to his closest friend almost supplanted his feelings of helplessness. He was hoping that next time Illya woke, he wouldn’t remember the promise. Letting go of the other man’s hand, Napoleon stood up and stretched the fatigue from his muscles. He went over to the window and looked up to the heavens.

“Okay, I know I don’t pray very often, but that’s because I always figure you have better things to worry about than me. My friend here doesn’t even believe in you, but it’s on his behalf I come to you now. I know he is going to recover from this, I just ask that you make it soon?”

Sitting back down, Napoleon arranged himself into the least uncomfortable position he could find, and drifted back to sleep.

Several hours later, he was woken once again by Illya calling his name. This time he sounded much stronger and alert.

“Napoleon, get these damned restraints off me!”
Solo couldn’t have prevented his grin if he’d tried. Admittedly, Illya had been fighting and yelling for a few days, but this was different. This was the stubborn and belligerent Illya that he knew all too well.

“I need to ask the doc first,” he replied. “Can you wait at least that long?”

He was rewarded with the patented Ice Prince glare, which lifted the last of the fear from his soul.

“Make it quick,” the Russian growled.

Within half an hour, Illya was freed from the restraints, but was under instructions to remain in bed. The threat of being re-restrained was enough to keep him in place, for now.

“Napoleon, you look terrible,” he told his tired partner. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I could do with some sleep,” Solo replied. “But, other than that, I’m okay.”

“I’m glad,” Illya mumbled, as his eyes began to close. “I’m not feeling that good myself.”

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Thank you, it certainly is.